


Son of Dionysus

by enbyofdionysus



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-04-11
Packaged: 2018-01-19 00:25:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1448527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enbyofdionysus/pseuds/enbyofdionysus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pollux doesn’t seem like a son of Dionysus to Nico and after a few weeks of dating, he’s not sure if he’s a potential boyfriend or a potential bro. He decides on the former.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Son of Dionysus

**Author's Note:**

> Future AU in which it's been four years since the end of the war with Gaea. Jason is dead in this 'verse.

They haven’t officially made the claim that they’re “going steady,” but it’s been a few weeks and they’ve been on five official dates and hang out whenever they find the time. Half the time Nico isn’t actually sure if Pollux is a potential boyfriend or a potential best friend. He goes with the former since Salina has dubbed herself the official BF and refuses the budge. Nico doesn’t try to move her.

Their dates are average. Dinner. Movie. Ice cream. Walks. Coffee. What they do when they hang out is more unconventional. Chinese food and black-and-white foreign films. Waffles at 6 AM before work. Yoga on Saturdays – “You’re a contortionist!” Pollux had laughed while he attempted to go back into down dog; he collapsed on his face. It was the hardest Nico had laughed in a while.

 

Conveniently, he noticed something early on in their relationship that had made him curious about said-potential-boyfriend: Pollux didn’t seem very… Dionysus-y. He was physically affectionate. He spoke with his eyes and fumbled over his words when he was nervous. There was an air about him that made you feel wanted. And he didn’t drink. The only time Nico ever saw him with a glass of alcohol in his hand, only 1/6th of it was white wine, the rest black cherry sparkling water. Nico never asked why, didn’t think it needed an explaination.

The only time Pollux has ever resembled his father, Nico thinks, is when he’s seen him dance. The first time it happened they had gone clubbing together at some obscure gay bar somewhere around Broadway (or was it in the completely opposite direction? He couldn’t remember). Pollux had been completely shirtless, something Nico hadn’t seen before and wouldn’t mind seeing again, with a blacklight tattoo covering his chest and upper back. His eyes had been manic, his grin wicked. There was no alcohol in his system, just pure Olympian genetics. Nico had grinded with him, something he hadn’t done before, and found he liked it  _a lot_.

That night they had sex for the first time in the last stall of the restroom, Nico on his knees and hand gripping the softness of Pollux’s belly as if he were afraid the fleshiness of the blond boy might turn into hardened muscle and it would be Jason Grace’s dead cock he was sucking.

Nico’s soft in his jeans when Pollux goes to return the favor and the look on his face is something extremely close to shame so Nico shoves him back against the stall a little more aggressively than he needs to and kisses him. He whispers the filthiest things he can think of into Pollux’s ear, trying to reassure him, to push every image of the war he has behind his eyes away from his brain so he can enjoy this, this other human being. It works.

Pollux gives the nastiest blowjobs.

Nico loves it.

It’s the second time he sees Pollux dance when it happens, the little inward declaration to himself. They’re in Rizzoli’s and Pollux is waiting for Nico’s shift to end. A jazzy little tune comes on over the loud speaker and, over in the Journals section with a little tin of  _The Empire State!_ Postcards in his hands, Pollux does a little version of what Nico considers solo-Swing. His eyes don’t have the manic look they did in the club, but there’s an easiness there in Pollux’s face that says  _I may be easily embarrassed, but not when it comes to a party_. It’s at that moment, lips picking up at the sides and a stack of books in his hands, that Nico decides Pollux really is a son of Dionysus.

And his boyfriend.


End file.
